Pirates and Propers
by miakalacka
Summary: Her birthdays have often been boring. She smiles for the ladies and flirts politely with the bachelors, endures terrible dances and downs as much punch as she can get away with for being a Lady. A proper life. Boring, but proper. It's her 16th and this seems no different. Maybe this one will provide things more interesting than stray leaves caught in gentlemen's hair. 1700s AU!


**AN: Hi everyone, back with a Pirates/1700s AU, coz why not.**

 **Enjoy!**

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There's a leaf in that man's hair.

It's slipped perfectly into his dark curls. Can she manage to get it out without anyone noticing? Hardly. She's a lady. A proper lady. It wouldn't do to nab it as she twirled past him, dancing with her kind of handsome man who's chest is far too squishy to be real. The Duke of Darchester, she thinks he is. She doesn't know. She really doesn't care. That bloody leaf…

A foot gone awry clips her heel and her mind reels back in from its usual odd wanderings. Like leaves in gentlemen's hair. That's the sort of life she's living, one where a stray leaf is just about the most amusement she gets. It's her 16th birthday so this particular party is slightly more interesting than the usual as its 'special', apparently. But there are far too many bland ones, where she dances and perfectly nice gentlemen court her and they're fun, sort of, and some are interesting enough but really, they're never quite have the 'it' factor. Never send a thrill through her that she imagines love feels like.

It's a story you hear far too often, from Miss Aubrey Posen, her young maid turned best friend who fawns over her mistress and simply cannot wait until she meets the dashing gentleman who wins her heart, and from her mother, the Duchess of their small coastal town, who's frantically (though trying to hide the fact) looking for a son-in-law with all the dignity and vague panic of a lady who's corset is knotted too tight and dear god, woman, if you don't stop holding your breath with tightly pursed lips you might just faint, 'cause the man aint comin' anytime soon.

A story of a young daughter, heir to a respectable but mostly powerless realm, The Lady Chloe Beale, destined for a life of quills, paper, pressing her family ring into the wax (which, alright, is actually quite fun) to seal letters, sending letters, receiving letters, talking cordially to important gasbags and smiling. Always smiling.

A proper life.

Boring, but proper.

Chloe sighs, the song is ending and people are clapping and oh ho how lovely, how lovely what a lovely dance. It takes all her willpower and hours spent on etiquette to not roll her eyes, stalk across the hall and chug the nearest crystal glass of punch, and then one more after that. Her dance partner bows, kisses her hand, and she thanks him, graciously of course, always proper, before making her way steadily to the large double doors that open out to the glittering ocean beyond.

They're open in a feeble attempt to let out the stuffy air and general stench of royalty. Chloe peers ahead to scout the balcony. It's not hugely busy but there's still a few too many people there for her liking. She's almost sucked dry, and if she has to make one more empty compliment with a painful smile plastered to her face she might just scream and blame it on a hysteric episode. She considers trying for the east balcony, lesser known and unlit, it would be peaceful there.

Her decision is made for her when her father appears at the south balcony doors in all his regal ponce.

No way is she dealing with that.

She veers right, ducking under an impossibly tall man's swinging arm and battling her way past a ridiculously large dress trail, which does look gorgeous she'll admit, and bless the poor woman for dealing with that all night for the sake of looking fabulous.

She picks up the pace as she pushes through the first doors that leads to the short corridor, which will eventually open to the east balcony. The hubbub of the party instantly dies when the doors swing shut.

Pure bliss. That's what silence is. Well, relative silence. The party still rages on behind the thick mahogany but for now she can have a moments reprieve. No stuffy small talk, no Ladies complimenting her with tight smiles and unnervingly wide eyes.

Her shoulders unclench from where she'd forced them to stay poised as she makes her way down the corridor, her short heels click-clacking as she goes. That won't do. She kicks them off, groaning with relief as her ankles return to a normal position. She snorts a small laugh, her mother would not approve of that groan, or that unseemly noise she just made.

She unceremoniously shoves through the last doors that lead to the balcony and sighs again with relief when the cool sea breeze washes over her. She's halfway across the cool marble when she registers a second person already out here.

She whips around with a small gasp, and so too does the figure. She instantly smooths her dress, hoping the stranger hasn't noticed her lack of footwear.

"I'm terribly sorry, sir, I hadn't known anyone would be out here," her words come out rushed, a combination of coming down from a fright and panicking at the man seeing her as anything less than the Lady she's supposed to present as.

The man laughs, awfully high pitched for a male, but he quickly clears his throat and frowns, before laughing in a much deeper voice.

"I should apologise, madam, I did not mean to scare you," he bows quickly, ungracefully, "and a Lady, no less."

He stands tall again. Well, almost. He's awfully short for a man, barely taller than Chloe in his smart heeled boots.

"What are you doing up here?" Chloe asks, quickly racking her brain for who this gentleman might be.

"I uh..." he flounders, left hand fiddling with a button, "needed some air."

He looks over the edge of the balcony and peers into the darkness for a few moments before whipping back around.

"What are you doing out here, madam?" His voice squeaks at the question, realising how dumb it was too late.

"This is my castle," Chloe states, raising a challenging eyebrow.

"This is…" he waves his hand in a circular motion, gesturing to the building in question. "You… you're Lady Beale?" his eyes pop and a look of pure panic whizzes across his face before he quickly schools it.

"I mean, oh, of course, silly me."

He speaks his words with about as much grace as a drunk trying to steal a keg of beer.

Awkward. Very awkward. It's refreshing, most handsome princes know exactly what to say, how to say it and when, it's predictable and shallow. This man (boy, really) has a genuine vibe to him. And he's handsome, with structured cheekbones and a defined jawline. Handsome indeed.

"I'm out here for air, too," she humours him, "it's suffocating in there."

"Oh? How come?"

He's distracted, fidgeting with his cuff and constantly glancing into the darkness below the balcony wall.

"Someone set a dragon loose among us and my guards are still desperately trying to catch it," she dead pans, wondering if the stranger will even notice her story.

"Ah yes, that's nice, that's- wait what?" He begins airily but snaps back around to face her, "dragon?"

Chloe laughs and the stranger at least has the decency to look sheepish.

"Apologies, madam."

Chloe smiles kindly and walks up beside him and leans on the stone wall. He stiffens immediately, eyes still flitting about. He's even smaller up close.

"So, you never introduced yourself," Chloe turns to face him, then smiles apologetically. "I will humbly admit to not knowing who you are…"

Her lip quirks as she guiltily drops her gaze.

"Oh, who me?" the man says, eyebrows shooting to his hairline and index finger pointed at himself. "I'm, uh… a gentleman that's for sure."

"Of course. But from where?"

"Where…? Who I am is not important… because… you won't see me again," he stutters out. He blows out a puff of air as he pushes out his chest and grips the lapel of his tailcoat. "What is important, is that you know I'm ridiculously dashing and-"

He slaps on a smile which Chloe assumed was meant to be 'dashing', which is a tad charming but it's ruined when he tries to casually lean against the parapet and unfortunately misses by an inch or two. He yelps as he falls, but regains as much composure as he can, and fixes his top hat with as much dignity as the situation allows.

"I can… see that…" Chloe thinks she succeeds in hiding her giggle.

"As you can see, I'm terrific at first impressions," he presses his lips together and pointedly avoids eye contact.

Chloe lets the giggle go, then, and laughs until tears threaten to leak out.

"I see somewhere along my hideous mess of an introduction I said something right?" the stranger smirks with a twinkle in his eye.

"Oh, don't worry sir, you've stuffed up your first impression enough," Chloe breathes deep to control herself. "I think you've done well, though."

The man returns the smile, dare she say flirtatious, "What's that, 'stuffed up'? Hardly royal of you?"

"I trust that what is said out here stays out here," she challenges, looking down her nose at him. "And what happens out here stays…"

Her eyes slide suggestively sideways to look at him, and his chest visibly heaves as he takes in a deep breath.

"What things might that be, madam?" he asks softly.

Chloe smiles, flirtatious (intentional), and shifts a little closer before dropping her shoulder, rolling her body and cants her hips in a way she _knows_ men to flounder at.

"That it's stupid and dumb, and I kind of, sort of might hate about three quarters of the rich buggers in there," she huffs, polite/flirty voice totally gone replaced with the more southern roll of her country.

The man's facial expression reels and he blinks twice to recover from the verbal whiplash.

Chloe blows a raspberry and slumps (as much as possible in a corset this tight) unceremoniously against the parapet again.

"It's hogwash, I'm sick of being all… _proper,_ " she says the word like a bitter taste in her mouth, then smiles slyly. "Besides, you said so yourself; you won't see me again. It's not like I need to be a _lady._ "

The man nods his head, respectfully acknowledging her play.

"What _are_ you doing out here? I must ask. I must know now," Chloe straightens and leans towards him, elbows resting on the stone.

"Same as you."

"Escaping dragons?"

The man flushes almost as red as her hair and looks out beyond to the ocean.

"Fresh air," he finally says, shrugging.

They fall into silence, and at least it isn't uncomfortable. Just watching the ocean, letting the breeze wash over them.

Chloe is the one to break the meditation.

"I love the ocean," she barely breathes it but the man responds.

"Yeah… it's beautiful," he says it so reverently Chloe turns to look at him.

He's got a whimsical look, a small smile as his eyes track the ebb and flow of the waves. Chloe watches him for a few moments, she'd never admit to admiring, but he wasn't hard on the eyes.

"I love how it listens to no one, the ocean has no king, no queen, no gods," he says, his mind clearly out on the waves. "The ocean cannot be controlled so it must be respected if you wish to be as free as she."

He turns and winks at Chloe. Her heart skips a little.

"What a quaint way of seeing it," she comments.

"Quaint? The ocean is not quaint!" he blusters, incredibly indignant and Chloe giggles at him. "The ocean is… the opposite of quaint!"

He struggles for the words, his hands flailing wildly as his mouth opens and closes but no sound comes out.

Chloe laughs good-naturedly and assures him she's only trying to rile him up.

"Well it worked," he huffs and _pouts_ and it takes everything in Chloe not to poke fun at that, too.

Instead she mercifully switches topics.

"You speak very highly of the ocean, I take it you sail?"

"Oh, very much… spent nearly my whole life doing it," the man's face instantly transforms into to something that can only be described as childish glee. "I'd say I feel more unstable on dry ground than the planks of a ship."

"You must be feeling very dizzy at the moment, then," Chloe jokes.

"Well, I am a little bit, but that could be because of the first maybe fifth glass of punch I've had tonight," he squints one eye and wobbles his hand to emphasise. "Also, can anyone really be fully in their head with such a pretty woman around?"

Chloe is stunned for a moment, the man's boldness throwing her for a moment but instantly impressing her. She regards him intensely, scanning his face, but he maintains the cool façade, mouth quirked in the slightest of smiles.

"You sir… are something else…" she murmurs. "But a man such as you should have more backbone and brains to introduce himself before throwing on the charm."

The man's smile whips away faster than cotton in a storm, and she smirks triumphantly in return.

The music from inside changes and her ears prick up at the change, and she makes a decision. When Chloe makes up her mind, there's no changing it, and she plans on getting what she wants.

"Surely you'll grace me with a dance?" she smiles, dialling up the charm.

The man jolts and looks at her, then quickly over the balcony to the garden below.

"Uh…" he falters, unsure how to proceed. "Shouldn't I be asking you?"

Chloe rolls her eyes and, never one for boundaries, starts to pull on his arm.

"Oh come on," she sings through the vowel. "This is my favourite song, you _have_ to dance."

He resists a little, but ultimately takes a few steps towards the door.

"I don't think so…" he laughs nervously. "Besides, I don't dance."

She pouts, only half serious, "please?"

"I… uh…"

"Do you not want to dance with me?"

"No! I mean, no I don't… not want to dance with you? I mean, I do, I wouldn't mind… dancing… with you," he fumbles, and visibly cringes at the tripping.

"So… allons-y!"

"No!" he stops and anxiously looks back to the balcony again.

"No?"

"No, like…"

"Why do you keep checking the balcony," Chloe starts purposefully towards the parapet again, mind intently set on scouting the ground below for herself.

"NO!" the man yelps and rushes between her and her destination, grabbing her arms and using his momentum to spin them.

"Sir, what is wrong with you!" she huffs and pushes his hands off where they held her arms, only slightly tottering from the speed of the spin. "You're being rather rude."

"I apologise, my lady, I did not mean to-"

"What did you mean?" Chloe turns her nose up, enraged at this man's insolence, but suddenly gasps when a thought hits her. "Are you waiting for someone?!"

The man turns white as a ghost and swallows thickly. His face resembles that of someone who's just bent over to pick something up and realises they've split their pants. Frozen in horror.

"N…o. No, of course not."

"A _someone_ someone," Chloe grins mischievously, sure she's caught some juicy piece of gossip.

"No- wait what?" his face immediately slackens and the terrified look disappears as quickly as cotton-candy in water, instead replaced by a thoroughly confused one. "A _someone_ someone?"

"Y'know, like a…" her voice drops conspiratorially low, _"lover._ "

He jumps away from where he'd leaned in to hear her like he's been burnt.

"NO!" he squawks in a way that can only be described as indignant.

"Oh," Chloe puts on as innocent a face as she can manage. "Then it shouldn't matter if I have a quick peep over the parapet?"

She begins walking to the stone wall again but the man stops her, yet again. But in a way that causes the air to rush out of her very quickly.

He holds her hand firmly as he twirls her away, before pulling her back and slipping an arm easily around her waist.

"Oh my-" she stutters.

"No," he speaks quietly but firmly.

Chloe regains as much composure as she can as quickly as she can and teases back.

"No? Have you lost your vocabulary?"

"Who can remember anything when they're with a woman like you?"

Chloe's stomach drops at the downright huskiness his voice has taken on. Unexpected but not unwanted.

He twirls her again and when he pulls her close again, he begins to lead a simple waltz.

"I've had a change of heart," he murmurs. "The stars are a much nicer audience than those gasbags inside, don't you agree?"

Chloe swallows thickly as the man's scent washes over her. He smells like timber and boot polish. How _manly_.

"What about your lady, won't she be waiting for you?" Chloe asks, nervous of the answer.

Surely a gentlemen as charming and unexpectedly smooth as this would have a lady?

"Oh no, I'm just here with my good friends. We're scoundrels, came here to pickpocket a watch or three, and I'm waiting for the signal to make my daring escape," the man smiles cheekily as they swish around the flagstones.

"Oh, I see," Chloe says, playing along. "And how do you do that, in room with hundreds of people and twice as many eyes?"

"Well, you see…" the man hums then waggles an eyebrow. "Let me show you?"

He twirls Chloe out again and pulls her closer, but with much more enthusiasm than before, then stands tall. Struggling to keep up the total turn around the evening had taken, Chloe stands tall with him.

"We start with picking a target, the stand-outs from the crowd. Only the loveliest of ladies," he bows earnestly to her, and Chloe makes a show of fanning herself.

"Then it's time to woo," he lifts her hand and places a tender kiss before moving to begin the dance. "If I'm irresistible enough, I should be able to do as I want."

"Does it work?" Chloe asks.

She'll admit, she's fascinated.

"You tell me."

At Chloe's confused look, he produces a shiny gold bracelet studded with gorgeous sapphires. It looks remarkably like-

"Is that my bracelet?!" her hand shoots to the opposite wrist where, sure enough, her skin is now bare.

He hands the bracelet back with a small smile.

"You sly…" she trails off, a disbelieving look plastered to her face.

He shrugs and apologises but there's really nothing in it.

"So you and your… scoundrel friends… you came here, to my party to rob my guests and you're now _telling_ me about it?" Chloe squints incredulously. "Seems a bit silly."

"Depends, do you believe me or not?"

Chloe ponders for a moment, searching his face. Up this close she can see his eyes are dark blue, like the royal guard's uniforms, but it could be the low light. His face is impossibly smooth, no stubble at all. He's unique in a pleasing way, his features are slim, almost feminine. He'd make a rather attractive woman… Chloe bites back a giggle at the thought.

His expression really doesn't reveal too much but the tinge of arrogance dancing in his small smile seems very real, worn only by swindlers who were very sure of themselves. Plus, he hasn't revealed anything about himself… at all really, Chloe realises with a shock. She really doesn't know anything about him.

Suddenly, a small sound breaks the silence, so small she wonders if she even heard it, but it sounds a lot like someone whistling a low tune. And it's coming from beneath the balcony.

Her eyes snap back to the man, who grins slyly.

"My goodness…" she feels like she should suddenly feel very scared, but she's almost… excited, "you're telling the truth!"

A shout from inside draws both their attentions to the first set of doors leading to their impromptu dance floor.

Chloe whips back around, wide-eyed and thrilled.

"You…" but she trails off.

She really has nothing to say.

"You know how I told you I was waiting for a signal?"

She nods excitedly.

"That might be it, I think," he grins and bounces his eyebrows mischievously.

He starts towards the doors leading inside but they suddenly fly open with a tremendous bang, and the swindler freezes. Two guards burst through, frantically scanning the area. The man spins on his heel, a comical look plastered on his face as he knows he's been caught with his hand in the metaphorical cookie jar, and powerwalks back towards her.

"Not to worry, I'm completely in control of the situation," he smiles, a tad forced.

He rushes past her and starts towards the parapet. Chloe follows him but stops short when he leaps deftly onto the stone wall. He's about to jump down when she makes the split-second decision to stop him.

"Wait!"

He pauses and looks around cautiously, eyes flicking between her and the door behind her.

"At least give me the name of the thief who… _nearly_ got close to stealing this heart," Chloe waggles her head side to side as she chooses her words.

He laughs, the strange high-pitched one from before.

"You read too many stories, Lady Beale," he wiggles a finger at her.

"Don't avoid the question."

He puts his hands up in defence and steps down from the wall.

"I suppose I owe you a name."

Chloe just crosses her arms and waits.

The man undoes his tail coat and unwraps the cravat from his neck, revealing an oddly slim structure for a male. Next, he takes his top hat off and starts working at something behind his head.

"What are you…doing…?"

Chloe trails off when he pulls a tie from his hair and long chocolate waves cascade down his shoulder. Her breath hitches at the sight, but she catches herself when she realises who she's looking at is in fact…

"A woman?" she breathes.

The brunette shrugs. She runs her hand through the tresses and shakes it loose so it falls down her back.

She coughs once then speaks.

"Alas, it's true," she jokingly sighs. "The jig is up."

"A hoax! I've been tricked! Hoodwinked! Bamboozled!" Chloe laughs, studying the… girl really. She can't be older than Chloe herself.

The girl laughs, and climbs back on the parapet.

"Lefthand Ladonna," the girl nods. "That is my name."

"Lefthand Ladonna?" Chloe repeats.

"Lame, I know, but in this business when you get a nickname, it sticks whether you like it or not," she shrugs, her now obviously feminine shoulders bouncing.

"Is that your real name?" Chloe asks incredulously, eyebrow raised high

"No… but I would never tell you that my real name is Beca."

Chloe didn't think her grin could get any bigger; it's nearly bursting from her face at this point.

"What else have you stolen from me tonight, Beca?" Chloe steps forwards, excited grin back in place.

"Nothing from you, madam, but the others…" she trails off, her smirk sliding upwards as she lets her words sink in.

"You really are a scoundrel," Chloe laughs.

"Only the best kind!"

She swoops low into a bow and takes Chloe's hand in her own before pressing a gentle kiss to it. Once righted, she quickly turns and leaps back onto the parapet, speaking quickly before Chloe can get another word in.

"It's been an absolute pleasure," Beca touches her forehead in salute, and flicks her now loose cravat into Chloe's face.

By the time Chloe's managed to hurriedly swipe it off her and scan the balcony, Beca's gone.

Well, that was smooth as a real swindler, Chloe giggles to herself. Chloe rushes forwards and throws herself against the parapet, scanning the ground below. She can just make out two figures, one petite and one who appears (more certainly) male, dashing to the wall that separates the garden from freedom.

"You scoundrel!" Chloe calls after her, laughing. "I'll have you know that was lame, and I am in no way impressed _what_ soever!"

Beca turns as she's got one leg over the top of the wall and blows a kiss.

"Yeah right, and I'm, not the most handsome gentleman here!" she calls back, her huge grin flashing in the moonlight. "Happy Birthday!"

She turns to jump down but slips and thumps to the ground on the other side. Chloe winces on her behalf.

A pained groan followed by a muffled 'you did not see that' can be heard before the rustle of boots on grass and a fantastical evening fades into the night.

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 **AN: So, thoughts? I realise Beca was essentially male for most of it so it was a bit like a genderbent Bechloe, but we got sexy female Beca at the end.** **I had so much fun writing this and I want to write a multi-chapter on it, so watch this space coz there's maybe something coming... I hope :D**

 **Please review, I love hearing your feedback :)**

 **\- MK**


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